


The Other Mr. Holmes

by Dreamin



Series: The Adventures of the Two Hearts [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV)
Genre: Crossover, Engaged Couple, Established Relationship, F/M, Granada Sherlolly, Older Man/Younger Woman, Victorian (non-TAB) Molly in the Sherlock Holmes (1984) world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24450109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/pseuds/Dreamin
Summary: Mycroft insists on meeting his brother's fiancee.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Series: The Adventures of the Two Hearts [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623925
Comments: 10
Kudos: 77





	The Other Mr. Holmes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afteriwake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/gifts).



Mrs. Hooper wasted no time – the announcement of the engagement was in the following day’s morning edition of all the best newspapers.

_Mrs. Geoffrey Hooper is pleased to announce the engagement of her daughter Margaret Hooper to Sherlock Holmes. Dr. Hooper is the head pathologist at St. Bartholomew's Hospital, London. Mr. Holmes is the world's only Consulting Detective, frequently assisting Scotland Yard. A December wedding is planned._

Less than an hour after the newspapers hit the pavement, Sherlock received a visitor.

“Your brother’s here to see you, Mr. Holmes,” Mrs. Hudson said, smiling a bit. “I assume it’s about your happy news.”

“Undoubtedly, Mrs. Hudson,” Sherlock replied, smirking. “There aren’t many things that will cause my brother to leave the Diogenes Club, but I suppose my betrothal is one of them. Send him in, if you please.”

“Of course.”

Sherlock was lighting his pipe with a cinder from the fire when Mycroft walked in, using the moment to assess his older brother’s mood. _Not angry, but not happy either. Interesting._

“You could have at least done me the courtesy of informing me of your engagement before I read about it in _The Times_ , Sherlock,” Mycroft said irritably as he sat down on the settee.

“I saw no need,” Sherlock said as he sat down in his chair, “as your approval was unnecessary and your blessing unlikely.”

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. “Why on Earth would you think that?”

“I’m marrying a woman as unconventional as myself after only knowing her a few short months. And let’s not forget that I have a considerable amount of wealth, something Dr. Hooper lacks. Anyone might think that either Dr. Hooper was a typical gold-digger or-”

“Or that she is in the family way,” Mycroft cut in. “I, however, know you better, little brother. As Bohemian as you are, it is not in your nature to take advantage of, as far as I can determine, a well-respected young woman. Also, I am told she has no interest in your fortune. There, both concerns addressed. Now,” he clapped his hands together eagerly, “when will I meet the illustrious Dr. Hooper?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Her mother is, no doubt, planning an engagement party even as we speak, you may meet her then.”

“That will never do – I insist our first meeting be outside of such a social setting, if I’m to know the real Dr. Hooper and not the persona she affects for society.”

“Believe me, Dr. Hooper is above such affectations.” He gave an overly put-upon sigh. “I suppose I can invite her over for dinner tonight. That is, if you’re staying.”

Mycroft grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

* * *

Molly spent the late morning and early afternoon receiving one well-wishing caller after another. A few asked her for the secret to landing a lifelong bachelor, but none of them believed her when she told them that it was better to be friends first.

Finally, the rush of visitors dwindled to a trickle, then stopped altogether. She was just curling up with a book when Mrs. Turner appeared in the sitting room doorway, smiling knowingly.

“Mr. Holmes is here, shall I show him in?”

Molly smiled happily. “Of course,” she said, setting her book aside. “My fiancé is always welcome.” She rose as Mrs. Turner left, her smile widening as Sherlock came into the room and grinned when he saw her.

“Hello, darling,” he said warmly as he approached her and took her hands before kissing her softly. “I trust you are well.”

“Very,” she said, her eyes dancing, “now that you’re here.” Sherlock released her hands only to pull her into a gentle embrace and she went willingly, laying her head on his chest as he held her close. His heartbeat thumped soothingly in her ear and she allowed herself to relax. “I love you,” she murmured.

“And I love you,” Sherlock murmured. He kissed her hair and seemed content to just hold her for a while.

She, of course, had no objections to that and simply enjoyed his proximity. “I take it you saw the announcement,” she murmured after a while.

Sherlock chuckled, the low sound reverberating through her pleasantly. “It was hard to miss. My brother certainly didn’t.”

Molly raised her head to look up at him worriedly. “What was his reaction?”

He grinned. “Mycroft actually left his little sanctuary to question me about it. He’s eager to meet you, my dear.”

“When?”

“This evening, I came to invite you to dinner. Watson will be there as well, of course.”

She stared at him. “I’m not ready to meet your brother, Sherlock. I have no idea what to say to him.”

Sherlock smirked. “Knowing Mycroft, you needn’t say anything – he’s powers of deduction are even greater than my own.” That did nothing to help her sudden nerves and seeing that, he softened his tone. “He already has a great deal of respect for you just from your reputation. There is no cause to worry, Molly.”

“He’s the only family you have left, of course there’s cause to worry. If we don’t get along-”

“It wouldn’t matter to me – nothing would make me give you up.” He softly kissed her forehead then grinned. “How long do you need to get ready?”

“Oh, um, not long, I just need to change.” She hesitated a moment before standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”

His grin widened, his eyes dancing. “You are welcome, my dear.” He lowered his head to kiss her softly, sweetly, and it made her knees weak. Sherlock held her gently, murmuring, “You can trust me, Molly. I won’t let you fall.”

She laughed softly. “But I already have.”

After she had changed her dress for something more suitable, they took their time walking up Baker Street. “Tell me about him,” she said.

“One of the finest minds the world has ever known, and he hides away in either Whitehall or the Diogenes Club,” Sherlock said, with more than a hint of teasing in his voice. “He has never married, has never given evidence that he ever will, but that’s not something I can fault him for as I myself was the same way until I met you. However, it does mean that the Holmes family estate will fall to me one day.”

Molly stopped in the middle of the walk, her hand pulling on his elbow until he stopped too. “What estate?”

He waved his free hand in dismissal. “A small estate in Yorkshire, nothing worth concerning yourself with, my dear.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What aren’t you telling me, Sherlock?”

Sherlock smiled a bit. “I must remember in future that you are already adept at reading me. After we’re married, there will be some pressure on us to produce an heir, or the estate will fall to a distant cousin.”

Molly smiled back. “There, was that so hard? And this doesn’t exactly come as a surprise.”

“It doesn’t?”

“The estate does, but you needing an heir doesn’t.” She started walking again, saying cheekily over her shoulder, “After all, why should the Holmes family intelligence stop with you?” Molly grinned to herself as she heard him chuckle then he caught up to her and offered her his arm again.

“I think you and my brother are going to get along famously.”

* * *

Sherlock entered his sitting room first, Molly just behind him. Mycroft had taken the chair by the fire and John was standing beside the settee.

He was glad to see that Mycroft remembered his manners and stood when he saw Molly. _The jovial smile is a nice touch as well._ Sherlock took Molly’s hand and led her over to him. “My dear, this is my older brother, Mycroft Holmes. Mycroft, this is Dr. Margaret Hooper, your future sister-in-law.”

“Please,” Molly said with a smile, “call me Molly, Mr. Holmes.”

“Mycroft, please,” he said, his smile widening. “So, you’re the young lady who has stolen my little brother’s heart. I must say, he has excellent taste, though I question yours.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes but Molly merely giggled. “I didn’t realize it at the time,” she said warmly, “but my heart was lost when I first read one of Dr. Watson’s stories in _The Strand_.”

That roused Sherlock’s curiosity. “Which one?”

“‘The Speckled Band,’” she said, smiling at him. “Reading of you coming to the aid of a young woman made me long to meet you in person.” She smirked. “And of course, Mr. Paget’s illustrations did not hurt, though they fail to do you justice.”

“As you informed me when we met,” he said, smirking back.

“That means,” John said as they approached them, smiling delightedly, “that I can take some credit in Holmes’ happiness. Why, without my stories, where would you be?”

“Probably still trying to impress each other in the morgue,” Molly said, grinning cheekily.

During dinner, Mycroft regaled Molly with stories from Sherlock’s childhood. Sherlock, for his part, tried hard not to blush as Mycroft recalled an incident when Sherlock was a toddler and refused to wear any clothing since he did not see the point.

“You should have seen him, Molly,” Mycroft said, grinning. “Two years old, running through the crowded ballroom as fast as his small legs could carry him, not a stitch on, and his nanny unable to keep up with him. Our parents were, of course, mortified.”

He nearly jumped when he felt her take his hand under the table and squeeze it reassuringly but her only reaction was to grin back at Mycroft and say, “I’m sure it gave the guests something to talk about. How old were you then?”

“Twelve, and quite mature for my age – I was already arguing politics with the best of them.”

“That I don’t doubt.”

Mycroft glanced at his pocket watch and rose. “I should be going, I have an early morning meeting tomorrow.”

“I’ll walk you out,” John said as he stood. “I’m meeting an old Army friend at his club.” He turned to Sherlock and Molly, smiling a bit. “But you still have Mrs. Hudson downstairs to chaperone.”

“Yes, yes,” Sherlock said, still seated and suddenly impatient for them to be gone. “Goodnight, Watson, Mycroft. Thank you for the … entertaining stories.”

Mycroft chuckled. “What are older brothers for?” He turned to Molly. “It was a delight meeting you, Molly.”

She grinned at him. “And you, Mycroft. I hope you can join us again soon.”

“But not too soon,” Sherlock muttered.

Mycroft merely shook his head in amusement as he and John left.

Sherlock released Molly’s hand then buried his face in his hands. He could feel that, despite his best efforts, his cheeks were decidedly warm and, in all likelihood, bright red. “Of all the stories he could have told,” he muttered, “why did Mycroft have to pick that one?”

“I never had a brother,” she said gently, “but I assume it’s because he wanted to embarrass you. But it’s not as if you remember-” She cut herself off when he lowered his hands to give her a pointed look. “Oh my Lord, you do remember?”

“Of course,” he muttered. “I remember it all, including the swat to my backside when the nanny finally did catch me.”

Molly smiled a bit. “Was that enough to get you to wear clothes around the house?”

He couldn’t help smirking. “Only until I moved out of my parents’ house. It’s not unusual for me to, as Watson puts it, ‘traipse around the flat in nothing but a sheet.’”

Now it was Molly’s turn to blush and he found it most becoming on her. “Still? I mean, if I were to call at the wrong time-”

“You’d find me in very little, yes,” he said, grinning unrepentantly.

She raised an eyebrow. “Is that something you intend to continue after we’re wed?”

Sherlock chuckled. “After we’re wed, my dear, I fully intend to ‘traipse’ around the flat wearing much less.”

Her eyes were dancing and her cheeks burned brighter but all she said was, “Well, that will certainly keep the number of visitors low.”

He chuckled as he leaned to give her a kiss.


End file.
